Vice City Tales: Paradise Threatened
by homel001
Summary: When Tommy Vercetti makes a deal to sell military hardware to a Mexican gang leader, his buisness becomes under threat from a new Biker gang who have taken over Vice City. Set a year after "Vice City" R&R PLETED!
1. Chapter 1

**Vice City Tales: **

**Paradise Threatened**

**By Lee Homer**

**Disclaimer: GTA Vice City and associated characters are the property of Rockstar Games. The story and new additional characters belong to me. This is set after the events in GTA Vice City. I'll try to keep it short but I'll keep going based on reviews and comments. Enjoy and please read and review it.**

"Face it Tommy, things can't get any better here." Ken Rosenberg moaned as he slouched back in his chair in Tommy's office. "Why don't you expand the Vercetti empire over to Liberty City or something. You know, really make a name for yourself?"

"Ken, for the last time. Shut up!" Tommy barked in annoyance to his colleague's jabbering. "I'm not expanding anything until I have established businesses running here throughout Vice City. We could use the money right now."

"I see, I see what you're getting at." Ken replied. "Why don't you start up the drug trade? Prices for Coke have gone up by a million dollars apparently."

"Finally, you said something useful." Tommy sighed sarcastically. "Drug running is always a good start but I've also been thinking about gun running for the black market and other trusted clients."

"Like who?" Ken asked as he sat there restless in his seat.

"The Vargos in San Andreas, The Leone family in Liberty City. You name the family, we'll supply the guns. Infact, I've already made a start on the first shipment."

"When is it?" Ken continued excitedly. "When does it arrive?"

"It arrives here tonight at Vice Port." Tommy answered as he poured himself a glass of whisky. "I've sent some of our guys to pick them up. Meanwhile, I'll be at the Malibu having drinks with a client of mine."

"Oh that's real nice isn't it." Ken huffed as he threw his arms up into the air. "You go out on the piss while attend to your dirty work!"

"There will be Two grand in it for you if you do this." Tommy said as he persuaded the paranoid, sharp dressed man into agreeing with him. He meant business and Ken wasn't in a position to disagree.

"Fine." he said. "I'll leave right away."

"Good." Tommy grinned as he left the office and headed towards the front entrance. "See you later."

Ken stood there on the spot and muttered under his breath as he watched Tommy enter his silver Infernus sports car and head off down the drive way. He was about to face the brunt of another risky operation, one that the cops were sure to be alerted of.

Three hours had passed by as the Ken prepared himself for the operation. He was dressed in black to help him maintain a low profile. A black, unmarked van sat outside the main entrance with five men climbing into back entrance.

Ken proceeded into the passenger seat and signaled the driver to proceed towards the docks. As he looked back at the men who sat securely behind him, he noticed that they were armed with M4 assault rifles and micro SMGs. Ken opened up the passenger glove compartment and pulled out a tec-9 machine pistol. He didn't want to take his chances going in without a gun of his own.

"Okay, guys." he said looking back at the gangsters. "We only have twenty minutes to off load the guns before the ship has to leave port. Once you load up the van, take it to the lock up over in Little Havana. Our Cuban contact will take over from there. Make sure that there are no cops on your tail and once your done, split up and remain low for a couple of days. I have a feeling that this job won't go down that easy."

"No sweat boss." replied one of the soldiers. "We'll use the forklifts to carry the goods. No problem, but what are the guns?"

"They're AK 47's, Cobra pistols and laser sniper rifles." Ken answered as he read from the list that he was given. "All of which are standard military hardware. These thing will make us big money and where's there money, there's hookers, coke and enough booze to get wasted all. Understand boys?"

The men cheered, they're voices echoing in the back of the van.

"Good." Ken smiled. "Lets do this and celebrate afterwards at the Pole Position."

The atmosphere was already alive with clubbers, hookers and businessmen as Tommy arrived at the Malibu Club. The place was so bright and colourful that it lit up the night sky. Tommy parked his car in the VIP car park and headed inside the club. He had arranged to meet his contact upstairs in the managers office where he wouldn't have to deal with the crowd. He battled his way through the dancing crowd and headed up the stairs behind the bar.

His contact was already seated and waiting as Tommy entered the room. He was a Mexican gang leader from Liberty City and had flown in by personal jet only just a few hours before the meet.

"Mister Jose." Tommy said shaking the man by the had. "So glad you could make it."

"It is good to be here, Mister Vercetti." Jose replied returning the kind gesture. "I'm looking forward to doing business with you. I trust the guns are here in Vice City as we speak?"

"They're here alright." Tommy confirmed, handing Jose a drink. "They arrived by boat a few hours ago. I have some guys taking care of it as we speak."

"Good. Where can we collect them?" Jose asked. "My time here in Vice City is some what limited. I need to pick up the shipment as soon as possible."

"They'll be stored in a lock-up in Little Havana." Tommy assured the man. "Once I get a call saying that they've arrived. I'll personally take you there myself."

"Okay." Jose responded he sipped away at his drink. "So how much do you want for them? My boss will pay the maximum price of Thirty Thousand Dollars."

"I can make a deal with you." Tommy said as he rubbed his chin. "Make it Fifty Thousand and I'll throw in some RPG's for you at no extra cost?"

"Sounds good." Jose agreed. "I'll give the boss a call and then give you his answer."

Tommy nodded in agreement and left the room so Jose could make his decision. He felt that he had made a fair sale and hoped that it would start a new professional relationship.

As he patiently waited outside the room, he could hear his contact chatting away over his cell phone. He could never fully understand the Mexican language as he hadn't been in Vice City long enough to learn it, but hoped that it was good news. Another few minutes ticked by until Jose emerged from the room, displaying a huge grin across his face.

"My boss has accepted your most persuasive offer." he said as Tommy let out a sigh of relief. "I will stop by in the morning with my boys and pick up the shipment."

"I'll have a car arranged for you." Tommy replied as he shook Jose's hand once more. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise." Jose smiled as he pulled back his arm and headed down the stairs towards his limo.

Tommy stood outside and waved his contact off until the coast was clear. Pulling out his portable cell phone, he contacted Ken. Ken's voice crackled over the phone.

"The deal went down without a hitch, Ken." he said. "Are you at the docks?"

"Yes and I hate here already!" Ken moaned. "The ship has arrived and our boys are already unloading the crates. The vans almost full already."

"That's great." Tommy chuckled. "If you keep it up at this speed, you can get to deliveries done in one night. Speak to you later."

Ken tried to keep his wits about him as he watched the guns being hauled into the van. He felt anxious as he believed that the VCPD were watching the whole operation. Once the first van had left the docks, Ken made his way over to the ship's captain, who was standing on deck watching over the entire operation.

"We've got to speed things up here, man." Captain said as Ken approached him. "I heard that the biker's are after this merchandise. If they catch us, we're dead!"

"Don't worry about it." Ken replied waving off the warning. "Just one more van load and we're done."

Suddenly a roaring noise began to emanate in the dock area as six bright lights appeared in from the warehouses. The lights blinded the men as six bikers appeared on the scene, all fully armed with 9mm pistols and combat shotguns. The lead biker dismounted his bike and slowly made his way towards Ken.

"Looks like you've got something that belongs to us?" the biker grunted as he paced around Ken. "What do we have here? AK-47's, cobra pistols, tec-9 machine pistols? Very fancy stuff."

"Beat it red neck!" Ken retaliated, warning off the biker off. "This is our goods and I suggest you guys beat it before we blow your brains all over the pavement."

"Don't make me laugh, Rosenberg!" The biker chuckled. "I can't see a puny little arsehole like yourself take an outfit like us down. To save the embarrassment, you hand over the guns and we'll let you walk out of here alive?"

"Fuck off." Ken spat. "Boys! Kill these bitches!"

Diving for cover, Ken reached for his gun and fired at the biker leader. The bikers dived for cover and opened fire on the Vercetti boys, killing the shipping crew in the process. The Vercetti gang returned fired, killing a biker in the fire fight. Ken took his chances and ran towards the van. As he made it to the drivers seat, he stepped his foot on the accelerator and sped off towards to the boys. Pulling up between the bikers and the Vercetti Boys, Ken signaled his men to pile in.

"Get in and keep your arses down!"

"But what about the rest of the guns!" a gang member replied. "We can't just let the bikers take them?"

"We don't have much of a choice!" Ken replied as he stepped on the gas. "We'll come back for them."

Sitting from the comfort of his office, Tommy sat there staring out of the window into the city when his phone began to ring. As he picked it up to answer it, he was met with the voice of a very distraught Ken.

"We have trouble!" Ken shouted as he panted down the phone. "Bikers! We were attacked by those god damn bikers!"

"Whoa, whoa Ken, calm down." Tommy replied. "You know what your like with your anxiety. Do you have the guns?"

"Not all of them." Ken growled. "The bikers have half of the shipment."

"What!" Tommy screamed. "You've got to be shitting me! You've got to get those guns back! I've made a deal with the Mexicans. They're going to collect the merchandise tomorrow."

"We can't go back there." Ken protested. "The shipping crew are dead and we've lost three of our boys. We'll think of something though. We still have four crates with us."

"Yeah well you better think of something because the last think I want is a group of Mexicans tearing up the joint."

"Tommy, it won't happen again."

"I'm never putting you in charge again, Ken. Next time, should we ever get out of this, I'm going to be in charge."

"Look it won't happen again. What shall we do now?"

"Head back towards the mansion. We'll talk more when you arrive." Tommy said placing the phone down on the receiver.

He leant over his desk and rubbed his temples. He couldn't believe his luck. The one deal he had that was going down so well and it had to be ruined by Vice City's most recent notorious biker gang, "The Flame Retchers." The Flame Retchers arrived in Vice City to set up a charter in the Downtown area. They had emigrated from Nevada where they were specializing in drugs and protection rackets. When they arrived in town, they had become an immediate threat to the Vercetti organization and Tommy's worst fears had already been recognized. The biker gang were going to take over his gun business or at least try to for that matter. He always knew that he had competition out there with the Cubans, the Haitians and the newly formed Cholos but this was getting too much for him.

As he reached for his whiskey bottle, he couldn't help but think of what was going to happen when Jose would arrive for his goods. He had to stall him. He had give himself some time. However, there were other matters that he would have to attend to. The bikers were sure to strike again in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

***2***

The Flame Retchers had established their charter in the Downtown area of Vice City. They had been there for three months and they were already causing havoc amongst the other gangs of the city. In their short time, they had already built up a huge police record of turf wars, drug running, robbery, murder, fraud and kidnapping. They were an outfit that were not to be messed with. The clubhouse wasn't very big as it was housed between the VCPN and Ammunition buildings. It was a very unusual place to have a clubhouse but Vice City wasn't a big place and the gang were not very choosy either.

Outside the main entrance, the pavement was swarming with parked Angel and Streetfighter bikes. The bikers had returned from the docks with the stolen weapons. The next thing on their agenda was to think about using them. The place seemed clean and tidy on the outside, but the atmosphere was totally different on the inside. The biker leader referred to it as Satan's playground.

Inside, Smoke filled the air along with the stench of booze, sweat, blood and vomit. The walls were stained with blood and vomit from previous drunken party's and bar room brawls. V-Rock played in the main bar as it always did and broken glass fragments lay across the tables and floor. The bikers had gathered in the room behind the bar. It was their conference room, a place where the club would take votes on what to do with their operations and business runs.

The president of the club was none other than Gary Nomad, an ex-convict and drug baron who was born and raised in San Andreas. He formed the club along with his vice president Herman Scully. The two of them had been child hood friends and partners in crime. The stolen guns were scattered across the table as each biker member studied the military hardware closely. Gary knew that he had to careful as not only were the Vercetti's going to be looking for them but the VCPD as well.

"Ok boys, we did a really go job here." He said as he brought the meeting into session. "The plan went off without a hitch but now we've think about protecting our arses from the feds and the Vercetti's. They'll be looking for their Merchandise real soon and we need to move these guns to a safe zone. Any suggestions?"

"I say that we should these guns to our advantage." A biker replied as he brandished a cobra pistol in the air. "With these beauties we can destroy the law enforcement in this town and take control of Vice City. We have the power now, Pres."

"Oh and what weed have you been smoking?" Gary's voice deepened. "We can't use these. We're just a small charter who are looking to expand business. Vice City is full of corrupt cops, foreign gangs, shysters the works. We can't just take them all head on. We need to work our way to the top."

"Yes but that's what every other gang would expect us to do." The biker retaliated. "We need to hit them hard and hit them where it hurts. They won't expect us to attack so soon. We could permanently cripple the empires out there."

"And what. Get ourselves killed!" Gary barked. "Shut up and think of something useful! Has anyone else got any ideas?"

The whole room descended into silence. Gary knew that his Herman would have the solution like he always did. Turning to his Vice President, Gary asked the one question that would wrap up the whole meeting.

"What do you think, Herman?"

Herman looked back at his President and sighed heavily. He had been deep in thought since raid at the docks.

"Well there is a storage depot over in Little Haiti that we can use to our advantage." He said. "If we can make peace with the Haitians, we'll have the option of storing the guns at the junkyard over there. All it takes is a little persuading."

"Are you sure about this?" Gary replied unsure. "The Haitians have little respect for us as every other gang in the city."

"Yes but what your forgetting is that The Haitians have recently agreed to shearing their turf with the new Cholo family." Herman explained. "If we can get the Cholo's on our side then we can get the Haitians too."

"And that will mean two gangs on our list of allies." Gary interrupted as his face lit up with realisation. "We'll virtually be untouchable."

"Right. It's a long shot, but I think we can pull it off. At least we'll crush The Cubans, The Vercetti's and The Sharks that way."

"It sounds to risky to me, Herman. An act like that could get this club killed straight away, especially if the other gangs were to realise that we were just using them for their junk yard."

"What makes you think that they're going to find out? Besides Gary just trust me ok? I know what I'm talking about here. I think it's the only way forward. That or get our arses busted by the feds."

"Well it's the only solution we've got. As usual we'll have to take a vote on it brothers. Are we all in favour?"

The biker agreed to Herman's suggestion and left the room, leaving Gary and Herman alone in the meeting room.

"What's up Gary?" Herman asked out of suspicion. "You didn't seem to sure about this at first?"

"Well your idea seems a little extreme, Herman." Gary replied as he stared down at the table. "We haven't been in Vice City long and already, you're putting the club on the edge of a knife."

"Are you judging me?" Herman asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No." Gary answered bluntly. "I'm saying that you haven't opened your eyes to the other gangs yet. They are all powerful that we are at the moment. It was a risky move just stealing this stuff from under Tommy Vercetti's nose. If you can't think of a rational decision first then I'll find a man that will. Understood?"

"Crystal, pres." Herman muttered. "I'll be careful next time."

"Well you better, because if this club feels the heat, your going to be the one pulling us out of the mess." Gary warned as the sincere tone in is voice began to pick up in the room.

Herman stood there on the spot as Gary got up to leave the room. He couldn't believe what he had suggested. He had always gained support from his best friend and now he felt like he was about to stab him in the back. He knew that he had to make it up to the club some how. He knew what he had to do.

Ken Rosenberg had safely returned to the Vercetti Mansion but instead of a sigh of relief, he was greeted with an ear bashing from Tommy himself. His van was riddled with bullet holes and blood stains as he had sent his boys over to repair the vehicle. He was now in the lounge with Tommy as he sat there on the couch with a whiskey glass in one had and a couple of aspirin in the other.

He sat there dazed and confused as he watched Tommy pace up and down the room in sheer frustration. He didn't know what to do next as he focused on the pain in his head and the ringing in his ears.

"How did this happen?" Tommy grunted as he knocked back his drink. "How did you manage to lose half a shipment of guns to a small biker charter?"

"Look I don't know ok?" Ken replied. "It all happened so fast. They just turned up without warning and before we knew it, we were under fire."

"Yeah, so you keep saying." Tommy interrupted. "Well luckily for us, I was able to tell our contact about what had happened and he's agreed to help us out. He's coming here tomorrow with a few of his boys and we're going to work out a scheme on how to get our guns back."

"A scheme?" Ken growled in a blind panic. "What you're seriously planning on attacking those biker fucks! That's suicide!"

"And your forgetting one thing Ken." Tommy corrected. "Those were our guns so we're going to take back what's rightfully ours. No biker pricks are going to stand in the way of our business. You need to chill out. Maybe take a vacation."

"I was meant to be on vacation right now remember?" Ken snapped, jumping from his seat. "You cancelled my flight to Barcelona and got me to do your dirty work!"

"Well after your failure at completing a simple task, I'm thinking of firing you!" Tommy retaliated, slamming his fist down on the bar. "But luckily for you, I'm not going to do that. Instead I'm going to hire outside help."

"Oh right yeah. Lets hire Phil Cassidy, that drunken crazy gun nut!" Ken said cockily. "Yeah that'll really solve the situation." 

"I'm not going to call Phil you idiot." Tommy replied. "I'm going to call in an old friend of mine from Liberty City. He kind of owes me a favour ever since I saved his life over there."

"Just how many old friends do you have?" Ken scoffed. "The way you've been over the last year, I'm surprised you have friends at all?"

"His name is Jacob Scarlosa. He's a family friend of mine and much more of a friend than you." Tommy said as he pointed at Ken. "I saved his life back in 1979 when he was involved in a mugging from the cartel at the time. Ever since then he's owed me a favour, but he never got to do that favour when Sonny Forelli carted my arse over here. Now's the time to give that old son of a bitch a call."

"Wait you actually saved someone?" Ken scoffed even more. "So there is a heart in that empty shell of a body after all."

"If you don't shut up, I'll kill you so help me lord!" Tommy growled as he picked up the phone one again and began to dial. "Get out of here!"

But Ken refused to leave the room. He had had enough of the way Tommy was treating him. After the amount of times that he had bailed his companions from jail and the times that he did favours, he still wasn't gaining any respect. Stress had gotten the better of him and he was now on the edge of putting a gun to the billionaires' head. He stood there in the entrance and tried to keep his wits about him as he watched Tommy pace up and down the room while talking on the phone.

"Hey Jacob? Jacob Scarlosa? It's Tommy Vercetti. Tommy Vercetti! You know, the guy who save your live back in '79? That's right. Your partner in crime. Yeah I've been good thanks. Listen, remember that favour that you owe me? Well it's time you that you came over here and did that favour. I need your help man. badly. "

Ken then studied the rapid changes in expression on Tommy's face. Whoever was on the other end of the phone was buying it. Maybe this Scarlosa guy had no idea that Tommy was a criminal emperor. All he knew was that Tommy sure wasn't going to be same person that was to him back in 1979.

"Well man just come over to Vice City." Tommy continued. "Yeah. I'll book the first flight right away and I'll see to it that your on it. Yeah. I'll even pick you up from the airport myself. I really need you to help me out Jacob. I know it's been years but I need your expertise once again to help me out with something big. No it's not to do with Sonny Forelli. Yeah I promise you. Ok then man. Thanks. See you soon. Adios."

Tommy set the phone down and a brief but silent chuckle came out of his mouth. He then looked over to Ken and replaced the chuckle with a frown followed by a brief grunt.

"You still here?" he moaned.


	3. Chapter 3

***3***

Little Haiti had been home to both the Haitian and Cholo families for many months. When the Cholo's returned to Vice City, they found out that their territory was now under the jurisdiction VCPD when Alex Shrub signed a document allowing the police force to crack down on gang territories. To make their mark in the city, The Cholo's had made a deal with the Haitians to help produce and dispatch their drugs in return for sharing the territory with them. The Haitians agreed and since then, the two gangs had become the most powerful organisation in the whole of Vice City.

The Cholo's had built another drugs factory on top of the charred remains of the original which was destroyed by the Cubans. It took four months to build under the cover of darkness as the materials used to build the factory were stolen from all different states. Once it was up and running, the two gangs began to produce a strong drug which they called "Devil's Dust." The Haitians then began running the drugs to wealthy families and corrupt politicians all over Vice City. After three successful months, both gangs had become extremely wealthy and powerful. The police couldn't touch them.

It was four o'clock in the morning when the bikers arrived at the drug lab. They were armed as they didn't expect a friendly welcome. Gary looked at his boys before dismounting his bike. He slowly walked up towards the main gate and called out to the Haitian guards that were staring down at them from above.

"Hey brother! Hey! Down here!"

"What the fuck do you greasers want!" replied one of the Guards.

"I want to talk with your boss?" Gary explained. "We have a little proposition for him and the Cholo's? If you let us in, we'll be quick and we'll get out of your way."

"We don't trust bikers." The guard sneered. "Especially bikers who know nothing about us. I suggest you beat it before we put bullets in your sorry arses."

"And I suggest that you open the gates and let us in before I tear you a new arsehole." Gary smirked. "You'll then regret the day you mouthed off The Flame Retchers."

Just then, the guard disappeared and Jamaican language could be heard from the other side of the gate. The gates then began to open, revealing the complex inside along with a group of heavily armed Haitians. Gary smiled as he lit himself a cigarette. A Jamaican man emerged from the compound and walked over towards the bikers. He had long black dreadlocks and wore a log, purple pimp jacket with a matching shirt, white trousers and shoes. His thick black trooper shades obscured his eyes, making his apparel more menacing than the rest of the gang. He was the Haitian drug lord and his dead pan expression, un-nerved the rest of the bikers. With his face level with Gary's, the Jamaican began to speak.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Take it easy friend." Gary chuckled. "We're going to be your new business associates. You see. We're The Flame Retchers." 

"I know who you guys are?" the leader replied. "Your that new small biker outfit that stole half a shipment of guns from the Vercetti's."

"And how do know that?" Gary continued. "That was only three hours ago."

"Word gets about fast in this town." The leader replied. "I hope you ain't planning on stealing my merchandise as well?"

"Far from it brother." Gary said as he put out his cigarette. "No infact we've come to hopefully make a new proposition and hopefully a mutual friendship with you guys. You see friend, We've respected you and your little empire since the day we arrived in Vice City and we want to be on your side too."

"Piss off." The leader replied as he sneered. "I don't care why you're here, we don't deal with scum."

"Well I know that we both have a common enemy and lust for power in this town." Gary chuckled as the leader looked back at him. "Tommy Vercetti. That's right. I said it. Now you and I both have problems with that stuck up arse hole. He burnt down my club house the same way he destroyed your drug lab with the Cubans. Now for revenge, I took half his guns. What are you going to do?"

"What do you want?" the leader asked as he tuned in to what Gary was telling him.

"A business partnership." Gary replied simply. "With me right now are the stolen half of Military weapons. Now we can't store them at our clubhouse as the cops will be snooping around for them, but we can hide them here where they cant touch them, plus it will make you very wealthy and help you expand your empire."

"And what do I get in return if I am to agree to this?" asked the leader, seeming interested.

"You get fifty percent of all the profits we make from our weapon smuggling plus we'll organise escorted drug runs for your organisation. I'm going to be completely fair with you on this. What do you say?"

The leader stared the bikers for a few seconds before fixing his eyes on the crate of weapons. He then trained his eyes back on Gary and replied with a brief nod.

"Come inside." he said. "Lets take a look at these weapons."

With that, the bikers made their way into the compound and the gates closed behind them. inside the compound, the area seemed completely different. Guards roamed the walls and the main delivery bay. Cholo's roamed to and from the two major drug labs. Smoke and powder dust vented from the windows and doors. Gary signalled Herman to follow him as the Haitian leader led them up into his office where the Cholo leader was waiting for them.

Inside, the office was small and only big enough to house up to five people. It was dimly lit up with only two small light bulbs which ran on a small electric generator, drug bags lay scattered across the small couch and tables and the wall themselves were dirty. As the bikers entered the room, they were met with the strong odour of Marijuana smoke.

"I take it you guys had yourselves a little party?" Gary joked as he waved the smoke out of his face.

"Who the fuck is this?" the Cholo leader snarled as he reached for his gun.

"There are new business friends, Greco." The Haitian leader replied. "Put down the gun, man and chill out."

"I thought this was meant to be a private business for us only?" the Cholo leader responded as he the his gun down on the floor. "Now your letting in every other punk!"

"Hey we punks are going to make the three of us rich, friend." Gary interrupted. "So sit down, shut up and let us get on with this."

The Cholo leader narrowed his eyes as her re took his seat. The Haitian leader offered the bikers to take a seat as he cleared the drug bags off of the couch. Pulling out a spliff from is jacket, he lit it and inhaled a deep puff of smoke. He was relaxed enough to hear any proposition.

"Show us the guns?" he said, as his speech became slurred.

Herman lifted the crate of gun and slammed them down upon the table. He then lifted the crate lid off to reveal the shiny, metallic hardware which attracted the Haitian leaders attention.

"Wow." He gasped as he picked up a cobra pistol. "I think we must fully introduce ourselves to you before we can do business. I am Delroy and this Greco of the Cholo families."

"I'm Gary, president of The Flame Retchers MC and this is Herman, my Vice President. Now that we're fully acquainted I suggest we get on with this before the Vercetti boys make their move on us."

"Fair enough." Delroy replied as he placed the pistol back in the crate. "We will hide your guns for you, but first we need you to do a favour for us, friend."

"Of course." Gary smiled. "What do you need us to do?"

"We have a buyer flying in to Vice City in three days time." Delroy explained. "He's a good friend of ours and regular. He's interested in buying our dugs for a good price but he's under police surveillance so he's had to send his brother to go out and collect it. We need you to make the delivery to him at the docks?"

"Why can't the Haitian's show?" Herman asked.

"Because we can't afford to leave the factory as the other gangs are descending on us. The Cholo's are keeping a low profile until they can find a territory of their own. If we leave the factory, we'll be wiped out."

"Leave it with us?" Gary assured the leader as he lit up a cigar. "We'll make delivery in three days time, providing you make sure that there isn't any heat on our arses?"

"We'll take care of that?" Greco added. "The cops won't even know that your going there."

"Good. It's a deal, friends." Herman smiled as he showed the door to Gary. "Come on pres, we've got to put the guns in the ware house and get out of here before The Vercetti boys realise that we're missing. We can't leave the club house un defended."

Gary nodded in agreement and left the office building. Herman shook the two leaders by the hand and followed Gary down to his bike.

The next morning showed a small heat wave that devoured Vice City. The sun was bright and signing, the beaches were packed full of tourists and babes and traffic jams were at an all time high. Tommy had arrived at Escobar International Airport where he planned to meet Jacob in the Terminal building. As he waited by the security terminal he looked onwards as he saw his friend head towards him.

Jacob was the same build as Tommy only he was three months younger. He wore a bold dark blue Hawaii t-shirt with an orange pattern on it along with white, pastel pants, and black shoes. He was carrying a small, black sports bag which meant that he had travelled light for the occasion. Tommy smiled at this guy. He hadn't changed at all.

"Well, well, well." He said as he hugged his friend. Jacob, you smooth son of a bitch. Glad you could make it." 

"Thanks Tommy." Jacob replied with a smile. "I'm loving this place already. I've only been here five minutes and I've already had the air hostess eye me up."

"Yeah they'll do that, my friend." Tommy laughed. "Lets go. I'll explain everything to you on the way and hopefully we'll have ourselves a little catch up."

A few minutes later, Tommy's silver infernus pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the small congested road towards Starfish Island. As Jacob gazed out the window to admire the view, Tommy knew that he had to state his reasons for calling him out to the city. Clearing his throat, he began to attract Jacobs attention.

"Look. I hope you know why I've called you here don't you? you remember right?"

"Yeah." Jacob replied. "It's my turn to do you a favour. Now you said something about some deep shit that coming down on your little criminal empire?"

"That's right. We've had half of our weapons shipment stolen by a group of pathetic bikers." Tommy went on. "Now they have the power to wipe every business that keeps this city going. My colleague couldn't even manage a simple operation with out it being crashed. I need help badly."

"So why did you call me?" Jacob asked. "What can I do to help?"

"My empire's going to hell, Jacob." Tommy continued. "Ever since these bikers have arrived along with the return of the Cholo's, my business has become under threat. My alliance with the Cuban families are on the edge of a god damn knife because the Haitians have been stirring shit between us. These are all very dangerous gangs of Vice City. It's a huge competition out there and the prize is the complete power over the city. I have no one who can defend my empire. No gun man, no muscle, no nothing. That's why I called you, Jacob. I need your help man. You have the skills of all of those things."

"Do I?" Jacob shrugged with out a clue.

"Of course you do." Tommy replied. "Do you remember back when you took on that biker gang in Liberty City? What were they called? Well names don't matter but the point is that your just the bad ass man I need to help me save my empire."

"Well since you put it like that, then ok. I'll help you." Jacob said as he rubbed his chin. "As long as I get to become apart of your business."

"What do you mean?" Tommy asked as he pulled over to the curb. "You're willing to join me gang?"

"Well. Yeah." Jacob replied. "I have no life back home. My wife left me after she had a miscarriage with our child. I'm in debt, no job and currently in hiding from the feds for fraud. I would rather hide out here for good than return there."

"Well I can sort that out, Jacob." Tommy said as he put his foot on the accelerator. "I'll even pay you to keep you here."

"Thanks, Tommy. You're a true friend." Jacob sighed with relief.

The two men eventually arrived at the Vercetti estate. Jacob was mesmerised at the place. he couldn't believe that his friend had achieved so much to earn it, but he time to ask him questions about his wealth later on. As he entered the front entrance, Tommy led him into the lounge for a drink where Ken and a few boys were waiting for them. this was to be Jacob's home until he could afford to get an apartment of his own.

Tommy himself was still pissed with Ken as he glared at him fiercely. Putting his anger aside, Tommy introduced the two men to each other while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He wanted to get straight down to business before the socialising could begin.

"Ken, leave us." He said. "Just get out of my sight and we'll start fresh tomorrow." 

Ken grunted and barged past Jacob out into the hall way. Jacob couldn't help but feel a bit awkward as he wasn't aware of what happened the other night. Tommy remained silent for a few minutes as he knocked back his drink. He then returned to the bar and poured another one for Jacob.

"Are you ok man?" Jacob asked as he stared down at his drink.

"Yeah I'm fine." Tommy muttered as he slouched down on the couch. "I just hate to think what those biker's are doing with my guns right about now. That's all."

Across the street from the mansion sat an unmarked red banshee sports car. The occupant inside had been spying on the mansion for three hours straight. His identity was kept hidden under a black sports cap, black leather clothes and black trooper shades. As he set aside his binoculars, he pulled out a cigarette and began to light it. as he took big puffs, he pulled out his mobile block cell phone and called an encrypted known number. This guy appeared to be an agent or a spy on behalf of a rival gang. The voice on the other end of the phone crackled wildly.

"What do you have to report?" the deep voice asked. "Has Tommy Vercetti retaliated yet to the stolen guns?"

"No boss." The man replied. But he seems to have hired a new recruit. Probably hired muscle or something."

"He's up to something." the voice muttered once more. "Keep me updated every two hours of his movements. When he strikes, we'll nail him."

"Yes sir." the man replied. "I'm going to head back to the station for now though. My shift is over." 

"Right. Start fresh tomorrow morning."

The voice disappeared as the man placed the phone down. Switching on the engine, the man pulled back onto the road and headed off towards Vice Beach. What ever was going on, Tommy's problems were far from over.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
